I was in labour.
That’s right, in labour. If you think that’s bad enough, well I was in my third day of labour!
I remember when the ultrasound and all the test said that our baby was due somewhere around the 1st of October, I just knew that this baby would share my birthday. I had that mum instinct. That I-am-right internal voice.
Now I’m not precious about many things, but my birthday is MY birthday and I was not going to share it with anyone, not even my child. I had so many people say things like ‘Aww, that would be amazing! I’d love that!’ Or ‘That would be the best and cutest birthday gift ever!’ Well sorry, but no. It would certainly not be amazing nor would it be cute. How is giving birth on your birthday cute?
Yes, that’s right, I was having an adult tantrum.
Allow me to put some context around this though. My older daughter was born on Valentines Day and my partner was born on ANZAC Day. We did NOT need another significant birthday pairing.
So anyway, there I am ON my birthday, 3rd day in labour begging the midwives to induce me (I was booked in at a hospital where they were pro natural labour…no matter what the cost apparently) because trust me, after three days of early labour contractions coming every 2 minutes, no sleep, exhaustion and pain I’d had it. I just wanted this bloody (no I mean cute) baby out!
She finally arrives on the 29th of September. After four days of labour I was induced and went on to deliver her naturally, which at that point I was quite chuffed about! And even though she was the most tiny and adorable little thing, I am completely satisfied that my birthday will always be my birthday.
I had big plans for my 30th birthday celebrations. I thought I would’ve given birth, be at home with a glass of champagne and a big piece of cake (I had hyperemesis gravidarum during my entire pregnancy, so eating was high on my priority list after birth). Instead I was in hospital, eating nothing, certainly not drinking any type of alcohol and wishing for sleep.
On a side note…
I’ve realised that I am just one of those lucky individuals who, no matter what they do, no matter how hard they plan, it just never quite works out. EVER. I will never understand how things always go to plan for some individuals. I am literally in awe of people who plan everything and then it works out perfectly. How is that possible?! You know, It’s probably because they plan for all the scenarios that can happen when you don’t plan!
Anywho, back to topic.
Little did I know that turning 30 would be monumental for me. I was so caught up in the newborn stage of life, I didn’t know that in those first few days of turning 30 that I would be subconsciously making a massive shift. That internally I was prepping myself to make some big changes.
That has got to be the best part about plans not going to plan (see I knew my rant about plans was related), you never know what kind of surprises get thrown your way. The best kind of surprises!
Now I may not have had an extravagant 30th birthday celebration, well I guess you could call trying to get a baby out is pretty extravagant…maybe? I was surrounded my nappies, blankets and bottles (of milk, not champagne) and looking back I can’t say I wouldn’t have changed a thing, because by golly I would have!
I would soon realise that turning 30 would cause me to make some of the biggest changes I’ve ever made in my life, starting with going from one child to two.
Welcome to the world Billie baby.